


birthday realizations

by exactlyemma



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, jemilla reads too far into everything but also not enough, other tribe members existence is acknowledged but not named, zazz is NOT subtle, zazzalil vs. A Blizzard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27407392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactlyemma/pseuds/exactlyemma
Summary: Platonic realizations, that is... right?Jemilla's birthday was in winter. She didn't mind. Never had. Just wished she could see her friends more often and celebrate with them. When a blizzard snowed out her birthday, Jemilla was more sad that she couldn't see her friends before they all went away for the holidays. She also may or may not have planned to come out to her friends at the party. She also may or may not have a crush on Zazzalil, and she may or may not have been planning to tell her. Either way, she had a lot riding on that birthday. Now it was cancelled. Zazzalil was determined to fix that.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	birthday realizations

**Author's Note:**

> brought to you by election anxiety

Jemilla had a winter birthday. It wasn’t that big a deal. She was never in school when it happened, and she was honestly just fine with that. If her birthday was in school her friends would be able to shout into the hallways that it was her birthday, and then there would be people she’d never spoken to in her life telling her happy birthday, and she was really supposed to thank them?

She didn’t mind that much. Not really. It was just annoyingly close to Christmas. Jemilla didn’t mind the constant birthday gifts doubling as Christmas gifts, not really. What made her sad was that her friends were always away or spending time with their families so she couldn’t have a proper party. Spending time with her friends was one of the few things Jemilla ever actually wanted for her birthday, and her friends did their best. They really did.

The problem was they were kids, with little to no say in their families chosen time to go on vacation. Or, as Jemilla was shown on the day of her seventeenth birthday, her friends could definitely not control the weather.

Jemilla was crushed. She thought she had heard every excuse for cancelled birthday celebrations. Not enough participants, too close to the holiday, her parents wanted to spend “family time” together. This year was the first time it had ever been snowed out. 

And Jemilla’s sadness definitely had nothing to do with the fact that she was finally planning on coming out to her friends as pansexual, and it had nothing to do with hoping her confession would inspire a group discussion. And it totally, 100% did not have a thing to do with her desperate crush on Zazzalil and maybe the party could go a little long and it was just easier to sleep over, and Jemilla’s bed had room for two, and Zazzalil was the smallest, so it made the most sense… And Jemilla was terribly, hopelessly in love and she was getting tired of hiding it. 

At least Zazzalil couldn’t feel how much Jemilla’s heart sped up whenever she texted. Which, weirdly enough, was rather frequently. There wasn’t always a meaning to them. Sometimes it was a random meme that Jemilla didn’t get until the morning, when she woke up. Sometimes it was a game from gamepigeon. Sometimes it was a simple keyboard smash. Whatever the message contained, they always made Jemilla feel better, and she could never quite figure out why she (of all their friends) was Zazzalil’s chosen friend to text her random shit.

She had gotten several that morning (at twelve a.m., on the dot, actually. It seemed odd to Jemilla that Zazzalil was attentive enough to notice exactly when it was her birthday), which promised a “surprise”. 

Jemilla was expecting a package to come, or maybe an especially relevant meme. Any in-person celebrations had been cancelled the night before, when news of the huge blizzard first rolled into town. It had indeed snowed all night, and Jemilla had received sad texts from Zazzalil accordingly (they went as follows: sad face, sad face, cup pong). Jemilla suspected the cup pong was an attempt at a distraction.

Whatever the surprise was, Jemilla was equal parts nervous and excited. She was excited because it was Zazzalil, and she was nervous because it was _Zazzalil_.

Around two o’clock, the doorbell rang. Jemilla hurried to answer it, wondering if the surprise had arrived. How big was the box? Had Zazzalil bought her that sweater she’d commented on last month? Or was it some sort of food? The possibilities were endless, and the probability of the box containing an explosive was dangerously high.

It had indeed snowed all night, so the last thing Jemilla expected when she opened her front door was to see Zazzalil standing on her front porch in snow that was almost as tall as she was. But there she was. Zazzalil, standing on Jemilla’s front porch in snow that was almost as tall as she was. Teeth chattering, face pink.

Jemilla’s mom-friend instinct kicked in, and she rushed Zazzalil inside, removing her (too thin!!) outdoor layers as they were soaked through and freezing.

“Happy birthday, J-mils,” Zazzalil said, her voice more of a wheeze than a clear tone, stuttering the words out through violently chattering teeth.

“What are you doing here?” Jemilla demanded, mostly shocked because _what the hell was Zazzalil doing here?_ This was an inconvenience to Jemilla’s now aching heart. She had a hard enough time hiding it when interaction was planned, this sneak attack was going to be the death of her (or, rather, her secret). And it had to stay that way. _Secret_.

“Jeez, Jemilla,” she said, rolling her eyes, shoulders hunched. “I have a record of seeing you in person every birthday, I’m not letting a little weather get in the way.”

“God, how cold are you?” Jemilla put a hand to Zazzalil’s forehead and found it freezing. Her shirt was wet. Jemilla pursed her lips. “You need to get changed.”

Zazzalil looked startled. “What?” Jemilla, I just wanted to tell you in person, because I know that means a lot to you-”

Jemilla put her hands on Zazzalil’s (also wet) shoulders, silencing her. “And it also means a lot to me that you get warm. And don’t get sick.” She started up the stairs, hearing the telltale clomping of Zazzalil’s feet behind her. “Which hoodie do you want?”

Not long after, Zazzalil sat on Jemilla’s bed, dressed in her finest hoodie and sweatpants, no longer were her teeth chattering.

“Are you happy now?” she asked, leaning back on Jemilla’s bed. And it was a stupid thing to notice, but Jemilla noticed that her hoodie was way too big on Zazzalil. She looked like an angry baby penguin. It was sweet.

“A little,” Jemilla said. “But you can’t just leave now. Then those clothes will get wet and the cycle will just start all over again.”

Zazzalil squinted. “So all of this was just a ploy to make sure I don’t leave.”

“I didn’t intend for it to be.” Jemilla nodded. “But I suppose so, yes.”

Zazzalil tilted her head, a scarily mischievous smile growing on her lips. “I’m still cold.”

“Do you want me to get you a blanket?”

Jemilla was already standing to get one when Zazzalil shook her head. “No. I’m too cold for a blanket.”

Jemilla smiled, and laughed a little and went to go get a blanket anyway. “You’re never too cold for a blanket, you just might need something extra, on top of the blanket.”

Zazzalil’s eyes lit up. “Yes, something extra. Though I don’t know if I want you on top of the blanket or not.”

Jemilla’s hands froze as she dug through her closet for blankets, and she pretended that her entire body hadn’t just momentarily forgotten how to function. “Oh?” It was all she could manage, and it was several octaves too high.

Zazzalil hummed a yes. “‘Cause, I mean, we’d probably be able to snuggle better when we’re both under the covers, right? Or is my single just showing?”

Jemilla grabbed her favorite blanket and threw it over Zazzalil. “I don’t know if I’ve ever snuggled anyone before.” _Platonic or romantic_. Not that this was romantic. It was definitely, totally, 100% platonic. And Jemilla’s soul _did not_ ascend directly to Nirvana the minute Zazzalil’s body touched hers.

And it definitely didn’t occur to Jemilla that Zazalil’s hair smelled nice. Coconut.

It didn’t occur to her at all.

It did occur to her (just a little bit) that Zazzalil was not shy at all. Especially because Zazzalil did not hesitate. At. _All_. Jemilla was still sitting down when _wham_ Zazzalil was nuzzling up to her side. And by God if Jemilla didn’t fall a little more in love with her. She leaned right up into Jemilla. She was the little spoon. In her defense, she was still shivering a little, which Jemilla could only tell up close and personal.

Not in her defense, Jemilla was pretty sure that she was colder than Zazzalil (at room temperature, thereabouts).

“This is some birthday gift,” Jemilla joked, rubbing Zazzalil’s arm.

“Oh, this isn’t your present.”

Jemilla frowned. “No?”

Zazzalil shook her head (hair, from Jemilla’s point of view). “I haven’t racked up the nerve to give you your present just yet. I also don’t know if you want it. I hope you do. That would be really awkward for both of us.”

Jemilla’s heart was beating so fast that Zazzalil could probably feel it in front of her. “What is it, then?”

Zazzalil shook her head again. “ _Surprise_. Duh.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Hold me.”

Jemilla was already doing just that, but she guessed there was a chopped off word that Zazzalil couldn’t quite manage aloud. _Closer_. She could do that. She pressed their bodies closer together, she kept rubbing Zazzalils’ arm, started playing with her hair. It felt incredible, and Zazzalil sank right into all of it without another word.

After what could have been thirty seconds or thirty years, Zazzalil sat up, jostling their position. Jemilla sat up after her, confused, and suddenly colder now that they were no longer held against one another. 

Her eyes were heavy, and Jemilla wondered if she’d been falling asleep. “Zazz?”

The smaller girl was hunched over, playing with her hands.

Jemilla leaned forward and tapped Zazzalil on the shoulder. “Zazz-”

Zazzalil turned around suddenly, her eyes urgent. “I’m ready to give you your surprise now,” she whispered, her eyes locked on Jemilla.

Something about the look on her face made Jemilla’s stomach flip. Whispering back was the only thing appropriate. She shrugged. “Okay.”

And Zazzalil’s eyes darted towards Jemilla’s lips. She leaned forward. 

And Jemilla fully realized how totally, definitely, 100% not platonically she was in love with her best friend.

Jemilla met her halfway. Their lips met but for a small, sweet second, and Jemilla was falling faster and harder and she didn’t want it to stop-when Zazzalil pulled away. She was flushed. She stood up. Clearly misread the look of shock on Jemilla’s face (she was impressed she managed to hide her raw delight).

“Um… I…” Zazzalil looked around the room. “I gotta go.”

She was gone before Jemilla could blink, and was at the front door as Jemilla made it to her bedroom door.

“Don’t go,” she shouted, surely disturbing her parents and brother, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. There were more urgent matters.

Zazzalil turned to face Jemilla, letting go of the doorknob. Tears streaked her face, and she was biting her lip. “Don’t you get it?”

Zazzalil was still wearing Jemilla’s clothes. Socks and all. Jemilla took the first step away from her bedroom. “You don’t have to leave.” Jemilla didn’t want her to leave at all.

“Then you don’t get it.” Zazzalil turned back around, and began fumbling with the doorknob. Her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t even open the front door.

Jemilla flew down the stairs faster than she’d known she could. The only thing she was aware of was Zazzalil, and that she was in pain. Jemilla leant over Zazzalil’s sobbing figure as it slid to the floor.

She felt Jemilla’s hands tugging at her, and she shook her head. “No. Jemilla, I can’t keep living like this. You don’t understand.”

Jemilla managed to get Zazzalil in a sitting up position. “That’s funny. Because you’ve never made more sense.”

Zazzalil’s sobbing paused. She opened her eyes and looked straight at Jemilla.

Jemilla whispered, because they weren’t words meant to be said aloud. “Can I kiss you?”

And Zazzalil nodded, throwing herself forward into Jemilla’s ready lips and embrace. The kiss was salty from the tears, but Jemilla didn’t care. 

When they parted, still on the floor by the front door, Zazzalil smirked, as if she weren’t the one in tears, and hadn’t been sobbing moments earlier. “Happy birthday, J-mils. Do you like your surprise?”

Jemilla smiled. And because she couldn’t help it, she kissed Zazzalil again. Suggested coyly that she stay the night, now that she was here. And it felt _so goddamn good_ to finally tell someone she was pansexual. It felt goddamn better to have them kiss her forehead and say that that was more than fine. 

Not that Jemilla had ever spent time on the thought that Zazzalil would fit nicely in her bed, but she totally did.

Jemilla’s phone buzzed. It was from Zazz. A heart emoticon, and a round of darts. She kissed Zazzalil’s forehead and took her first turn. She didn’t do very well. It was hard to focus on the game when everything she’d spent the past few months dreaming about was in her arms.

And maybe Jemilla had never minded having a winter birthday before. She hadn’t loved it, but she hadn’t hated it, and wouldn’t that be worse? It would be a burden, and Jemilla didn’t like being a burden. This birthday, Jemilla was terribly, hopelessly in love and she didn’t have to hide it anymore. More importantly: they loved her back. Or, liked her enough to kiss her, anyway. Maybe love was too strong and too soon. Jemilla was willing to wait. As many winters as it would take. Jemilla would wait with open arms until Zazzalil was ready to say the words. And she would say them back.

The words would probably feel strange in her mouth when they did get around to saying them. She’d never said them before to someone, meaning them in a non platonic sense. It was new. Having someone to think about when she thought about saying them was also new.

Jemilla couldn’t decide which would be better: hearing the words and the feeling deep within her soul that she’d get when Zazzalil said them, or the look on Zazz’s face that said she was getting the same feeling deep within her soul when Jemilla said them to her. Until she knew what it felt like, she decided they could go hand in hand.  


“I’m keeping this, by the way.”

Jemilla opened her eyes, having been nearly asleep. “Hmm?”

“This.” Zazzalil pulled on the string of the sweatshirt Jemilla had made her put on hours before. “It’s mine now.”

Jemilla frowned. “That’s not fair. It’s my birthday, but you’re the one who gets a present?”

Zazzalil turned and pressed a kiss onto Jemilla’s lips, smirking. “There. Happy?”

Jemilla observed the scene around her. Zazzalil, one hand on her hip which was under the blankets on Jemilla’s bed, eyes sparkling, focused on Jemilla. The sun setting outside her windows, snow gently falling again. She couldn’t picture a better birthday present.

“Yeah,” she muttered, nuzzling back into Zazzalil’s side. “I think I am.”

Zazzalil was the best winter birthday present she ever could have asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda feel like it's too dramatic but i couldn't come up with anything better, so that's what you get.
> 
> love, someone who has a fall birthday and a lot of friends with winter birthdays who rant about it a lot


End file.
